


Mars

by Contego



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - War, Alternate Universe - World War I, M/M, Soldier Shiro, War, World War I, radio operator lance, shiro lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 02:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15676596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contego/pseuds/Contego
Summary: Staff Sergeant Takashi Shirogane has been in the frontlines of France for months now. Just when he started to lose hope for survival, his men finally get in touch with radio operator Lance Corporal McClain. Ssgt Shirogane thought he’d never hear from McClain again. But by a twist of fate, a familiar voice is heard from the trenches.





	Mars

**Author's Note:**

> YESSSS I KNOW!!! I'm using modern warfare in a historical fic, but I'm literally a dumb US Marine that doesn't care??? I haven't taken history for Marines on MOL yet... that's why

The thing about war is that there’s things you’ll never forget. Like the smell of rotting bodies of people you shared laughs with and called a friend. To the indescribable silence of the men, waiting for the next attack. And watching as your bullet hits another human being, their life coming to an abrupt end. But I chose this voluntarily—- unlike most of the others here. Within a short amount of time, I found myself on the frontlines of France defending a barely expanding trench line. Around me were men shivering from the cold, scrawling out lines on a paper— probably a letter to their family. All I have left is my brother. Every day I’m alive I thank the Lord that my brother isn’t old enough to be drafted into this hellish war.  

 

“Hey, Ssgt Shirogane?” A young junior Marine asked me quietly, snot running down his nose. He looked concerned. Well, everyone looks like that. We’re stuck in a hole after all. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Any word from command? We’ve been here for weeks and nothing has happened. We got no more supplies and we’re running low on ammunition. We haven’t even gotten our recycle of men. We’ve been here on the frontlines for months straight.” I looked up at him, my face sullen. Command has been ignoring our contact for quite some time. I’m starting to think they forgot about us. 

 

“No. I haven’t. But I’m sure they’ll come soon. Just sit tight, Private Brown.”

“Sit tight?! Ssgt, we’ve been doing that since we got into this fucking trench! We’re going to die!” He paused, his face switching from concerned to terrified, “oh God... we’re going to die. We’re going to fucking die in here. I’m never going to see my mom again. Oh God, I’m going to die.” He started to hyperventilate from the tears that never even rolled down his face.  Shell shock. It’s something that plagued us all. But even so, my heart couldn’t help but ache for the young boy— no more than 19— suffering so much from the horrors of war. I didn’t comfort him, though. When people experience shell shock, they become unpredictable. Hell, I’ve accidentally hit a few people in the middle of my episodes. Not worth the risk at this particular moment to try and console him. All we could do is sit here and wait. Hopefully tonight isn’t one of those nights.

 

—-

 

**_Boom! Boom! Boom!_ **

 

All around us artillery shells began to fall, exploding and pushing dirt and mud into our fighting positions. Men all scattered, loading their weapons and handing out grenades. They cursed under their breath each time the rain caused them to drop rounds or fuses. Of course they picked this time to attack. 

 

“Platoon 1 squad 2, you’re going to handle suppressive fire while platoon 1 squad 3 handles the machine guns. They’ve been misfiring lately, so prepare to lay down extra fire to cover them.” I shouted orders as I loaded my own weapon, clipping my helmet to my chin. 

 

“Should we rush out of the trench? Try to gain more ground?” A senior Marine asked, gripping his rifle tight. I could tell he was scared. We all were. It’s just a matter of who shows it or not. A Marine doesn’t fear losing his life… Just his honor. Unlike most of these men, I’ve made peace with my maker and I trust in my brothers to have my back. When we are in imminent danger, sure, I’m scared. But it isn’t me dying that’s scary. It’s leaving behind my brother that terrifies me to my core. But that’s why I fight. 

 

“Not yet. They just started, so we need to see how far their will and capabilities go before we make a rash decision like that.” The man looked at me for a moment, probably contemplating if he should disobey me anyways and do as he pleases. 

 

“Aye.” He said softly, turning around and walking away further down the trench, the sound of his boots sloshing in the high water fading from ear shot. 

 

“Incoming!!!” A random man yelled, the familiar clink of a grenade making its way into the trench. We all immediately scattered in different directions, dropping to the deck. We put our heads down, counting the seconds. 

 

_ 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... _

 

**_BOOM_ ** ! 

 

The shock of the grenade rang throughout our ears, the familiar feeling of body parts and debris falling on us. I’m going to guess 3 men lost to this. A few seconds roll by before we all stood to our feet. I look around and see an arm, a few legs, and broken dog tags scattered around. Fuck. I leaned over and picked up the chain, a pair of dog tags klinking on it. 

 

_ Herald Watkins. Married.  _

 

Fuck. I knew him from back home. I took one last look at his battered tags, placing them in my pocket. Two other men came up to me and handed me the other dog tags from the fallen men. It’ll be awhile before news of their deaths could be sent to their families. 

 

I continued to walk to trench lines, making sure everyone was where they needed to be and to count the casualties. I watched as men groaned in pain from a terrible case of trench foot and others go insane from the lice that infested their heads. It was a terrible sight. But there’s nothing I can do about it other than watch and hope their misery ends soon. 

 

“Oh, God, my leg! Please help me!” I heard the cry come from a group of people amongst other yells. As I drew closer, the desperate voice sounded familiar, “I don’t want to die!” He continued to yell through loud sobs. 

 

It was the boy from earlier. The pain on his face was evident as he gripped where his leg used to be, “What happened?” I asked a nearby soldier. 

 

“Grenade. He couldn’t get away fast enough,” the man looked at the dying boy, then back to me, “He’s not going to make it. We have no medical supplies left to treat it. He’s bleeding out too fast. He’ll be gone before he knows it.” Without another word, I pushed past the group of people, kneeling down to hold the boy as he struggled to breathe. 

 

“Ssgt, please, I don’t want to die. I wanna go home. I wanna see my mom again. I want to go to school, meet a girl, please, help me.” He begged and begged. I gave him a soft smile, nodding. We all knew he wouldn’t make it. But making his last moments as comfortable as we could was about all the men could do. Watching young people die has  become such a normalcy around here. I don’t think any of us have ever thought we’d wake up to dead people or watch good people get a bullet through the eye… but we do. And it’s something we have no choice but to get used to now. 

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. Just calm down. Tell me about Missouri.” I wanted his passing to be as good as it could be. 

 

“It’s nice there. My mom and I owned a farm. We have lots of cattle and dogs. My mom loves dogs. I’m all she has left. My brother was sent off to war and never came home. My dad left when we were small. I gotta get back to her, Ssgt. I need to be there for my mother. I’m so sorry mama… I’m so sorry...“ and with one last agonizing gasp for air, Brown was gone. I sat there for a moment, taking in the loss of another young soul. Gently, I pulled his tags off of his neck, putting them into my pocket. I stood to my feet, collected myself, and walked on my way. 

 

The other soldiers closed Brown’s eyes, laying a cover over him, as if it erased his solem death in totality. 

—-

 

Just when I thought the dark, looming clouds were a foreshadow to tonight's future events, I was proved wrong very quickly. A loud, joyful voice bellowed down the trench line, grabbing my attention almost immediately. 

 

“Ssgt! We got a connection with COC!” Our only coms expert beamed with joy at the successful attempt to put communications back online. I immediately jumped to my feet, grabbed the telephone and eagerly began my transmission. 

 

“COC, COC, this is Company India, Echo-6 Sierra— radio check, over!”

 

A moment of Silence.

  
  


_ “Company India, Echo-6 Sierra this is COC Echo-3 Mike—- radio check confirmed, over.” _

 

“COC this is Echo-6— fuck it! COC this is Ssgt Shirogane with India Company. We’re in dire need of assistance and supplies, over.” 

 

_“Well, Ssgt Shirogane, you’re talking to the right person! What can Lance Corporal McClain do for you today, over?”_

 

“Supplies. Men. Food. Ammunition. We’re out of it all, Echo-3 Mike, over.” 

 

_“What’s your location, Echo-6 Sierra, over?”_ Eagerly, I gave Lance Corporal my location, awaiting his response. For a moment I thought Coms went down again. 

 

_“Alright, Echo-6 Sierra, expect resupply in about a week, over.”_

 

A wave of relief spread over my body. The first time in months. It felt good to be happy.

  
  


“Thank you, McClain. We’ll be waiting to receive, over and out.” A smile spread across my face as I looked to the radio operator next to me. 

 

“What, Ssgt?”

 

“We’re getting a miracle.” 

 

_ ‘Lance Corporal McClain... Godspeed.’ _

 


End file.
